


Safest of All

by Omorka



Category: Real Ghostbusters
Genre: Car Sex, Comfort Sex, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-30
Updated: 2010-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-06 19:57:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omorka/pseuds/Omorka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After another day of too many phone calls and lab disasters, Winston tries to cheer Janine up.  She's more eager than he thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safest of All

**Author's Note:**

> Has hints towards other parts of the Firehouse OT5, so technically not pure het.

Normally, he wouldn't ask about the constant push-pull going on around him. It started before he got here; hell, three-quarters of it started before he even got out of the Marines. And one-third of that's just so easygoing, it's impossible to blame him for the drama. Ray'll be fine. However it works out, he'll find a way to be genuinely happy about it. And Egon works at pretending none of it is going on. Peter, though - his deflecting is almost as bad as the fight could be, if they finally ever had it. And Janine -

It was the sight of her crumpled on her desk like the wad of tissue in her hand that got to him, really. Unrealistic expectations or not, she didn't deserve the kind of misery that Egon and Peter put her through on a daily basis. He wondered what, exactly, had broken her heart this time, and how long he could stand here at the top of the stairs and look inconspicuous before she'd start to think he was staring.

She gulped air and sat up most of the way, half-slumped in her chair. "Hey, Winston." Her voice was raspy, but not raw yet. "Nothing more on the schedule for today. Think Dr. V. would let me knock off half an hour early?"

"I don't see why not; you've put in four and a half hours of overtime this week already." He gave up and meandered over to the desk. "Pete's still at that thing at the newspaper offices, anyway, isn't he?"

"Yeah. He's supposed to be back after eight." She swiped the tattered tissue under both red eyes, successfully removing most of the melted makeup, and daubed at her nose. "Hey, you're a partner, you could let me off."

"Sure." He glanced upward. "Or you could ask Egon or Ray . . . "

The flinch happened at Egon's name, of course. "No . . . I don't think he wants to talk to me right now, anyway." She blinked, the last traces of her mascara leaving faint trails that looked like cobwebs against her skin. "I guess I'm pushing too hard," she murmured, almost under her breath.

Winston glanced up the stairs, thinking. "He's just not ready." He wasn't sure Egon was ever going to be ready, especially not for a woman, but telling her that would be rubbing salt in an open wound.

"Yeah, I got that," she laughed, and tugged her glasses off to clean the rime of drying tears off of the lenses. At least that got a smile, if a brittle one. "I almost think I have a better shot with Dr. V, I mean, not as one of his throwaway girlfriends, for real, but - that really would feel like I was sleeping with my boss."

He mentally added a clue to the mystery. If she really was attracted to both of them, just more attracted to Spengler, then the solution might be more complicated - but it might mean there was one. Well, he was pretty sure there was one solution already. If she and Ray both gave up on the other two at once, they'd make a pretty decent couple, although their kids would take people and things apart with equal ease.

She looked at him. "Does it bug you? The drama around here, I mean?"

"Nah," he replied without thinking. He looked up, then back at her, and continued, "I've seen family dynamics and church politics that make this little love polygon seem simple."

"Good," she said, grinning weakly. "I'd hate to think I was making you uncomfortable."

A muffled bang came from upstairs - probably the lab - followed by Slimer's excited gibbering and Ray's only slightly calmer voice. Janine cringed slightly. Winston looked up the stairs - no sign of smoke; good - and then back at her. "Look," he said softly, "why don't I take you for a drive around the block to pick up something to eat before you go home? Take you out of the hothouse here, but not - " he broke off, suddenly vaguely embarrassed.

"Not alone," she finished. "Winston, I'd love to. Get me outta this dump, please." She dug her purse out of the bottom drawer of her desk and stood up, her face still red and puffy but her jaw set.

\---

The Thai place was nice enough, although a little spicy for Winston's taste. Janine seemed calmer now, although it might just be that she had an excuse for her cheeks to be flushed. Winston was just about to turn back into the garage when Janine reached over and touched the steering wheel. "Not yet. I'm not ready to go back in yet. I'm already clocked out for the day - can you pull into the alley where I park?"

"Sure," he said, and made the corner. There was a sort of makeshift loading dock back there, where Egon and Ray had hauled equipment too large for the spiral staircase up the fire escape when they first moved in. He parked Ecto in front of her little Beetle, and waited for her to get out.

Instead, she slid towards him on the bench seat. "I really appreciate your doing this for me, Winston," she said, low and soft. Her shoe brushed the leg of his jeans (he'd gotten out of his uniform before eating, at least).

"No problem," he answered. What was she doing? He edged towards the door, trying not to be obvious about it.

She slid even closer, laid one hand on his thigh, and smiled. "It's gotta be tough for you, too."

"Huh?" He blinked at her, and growled at himself internally - that had sounded dumb.

She leaned back just a bit, hesitating. "Well - I mean, I've seen how you look at Ray when you think he's not looking."

He froze. Did he? A dozen afternoons of working with Ray on Ecto replayed in fast-forward. Oh, God, yeah, he totally did. He swallowed. "Uh-oh."

"Whaddaya mean? I think it's cute." She curled one arm around his elbow and leaned a little closer. "And I think I've caught you looking at me once or twice, too."

"Looking, sure. You're a pretty lady." He put his hand on hers, not sure if he should be moving it away or not. "But you - and Egon - "

"And Peter, and Ray, and you." Her smile was hesitant, but it reached her eyes. "It's complicated, it's always been complicated, and we came in late, but - it's all of us."

One final piece fell into the puzzle he'd been assembling. It was like he'd been blind. What was it Egon called it? The Observer Effect? He was part of the mystery, himself. "Yeah," he breathed. "It is." He smiled at her. "I guess - I mean, where I come from, trying to date you would be bad enough, but the guys - no way. There are things you just shut up about, even to yourself, you know?"

"Yeah." She hooked one leg over his, her shoe dangling off her foot. "It's supposed to be One True Love forever and ever, and that's not the way it works, not for me. I guess I'm lucky that all of you are guys, but - " She shrugged, leaned in, and kissed him underneath the ear.

"So, what are you looking for, here?" He shifted, turning towards her and sliding one arm around her waist. "I mean, I think I get what you're talking about, but that's different from the doing."

"I was hoping for comfort sex," she answered bluntly. "I mean, if you're comfortable with that?"

"Let me think about it." Technically, since she was an employee of the partnership, he was her boss, but they'd both started out as employees, and she was offering, and he trusted her not to change her mind later. She was right about him looking, especially when she wore the short blue skirt. It wasn't as if he'd never gotten laid on the first date before, either, although usually he didn't move so fast. How long had she been pining after Egon? Had she seriously dated anyone else during that time? "Okay, yeah."

"Yeah?" She tugged him away from the steering wheel and slid into his lap, her knees pressed into the leather on either side. The top of her spiky hair just brushed the interior roof as she settled down on him, her thighs sliding against his. She wasn't wearing any underwear, he realized. Those weren't pantyhose, they were thigh-high stockings; he slid one hand up her leg and found the button of the garter. She smiled slowly and pressed her lips to the hollow of his neck.

"Yeah." His hands found her hips; his fingers traced the curve of her ass, pert and round, Smaller than he liked, but shaped just right. He tugged the fabric of her skirt up and dug his fingers in, getting a good handle on her.

One of her long-nailed hands trailed down the front of his shirt; the other began undoing the buttons on her own blouse. "Good." The bra underneath was red and lacy. Fleetingly, he wondered whether Egon had already seen it tonight, and ignored it, or if she'd even gotten that far. It didn't matter; he reached behind her and undid the clasp, one-handed. She wriggled out of her shirt and the bra together, letting them fall into the footwell behind her. God, her breasts were lovely, all gentle curves and softness; he leaned forward and took one hard nipple into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue. She threw her head back and sighed, her hands gripping his shoulders hard enough he'd have nail marks later.

"C'mon," she whispered, shoving his work shirt further down. He slid out of it, curling his arms around her, her breasts pressed against his bare chest, warm and sweet. Some tiny part of his mind scolded him, telling him this was sinful, but she felt so good against him, and she trembled with such need, he really didn't care. This was good, even if it was wrong.

She groped between them, found his belt, and began unbuckling it. He slid one hand up her thigh, between her legs, found the warm, wet spot, traced it up to the hard little nub and skated around it. She purred and ground against him; her thighs clenched on his, pulling him towards her. She unbuttoned his jeans, unzipped him, oh, God, her hands pulled him up and freed him from his boxers. He hadn't realized he was that hard; just the gentle stroking she was doing now made his legs shake.

Gorgeous. She was gorgeous. He'd wanted her like this ever since he saw her.

She raised herself off his lap, moaning. "Want you," she breathed.

"I want you so bad, Janine. Please," he whispered back.

He wasn't sure where the condom had come from - her waistband, maybe? - but it didn't really matter, because it was on, and then she was on him, easing her heat onto him. He grabbed her hips and lowered her down, slowing her as she hissed and moaned. "So good, Winston, harder," she murmured.

He planted his feet on the floor and thrust with her, letting her set the pace. His hands went back to her breasts, brushing her nipples with his thumbs as she clenched on him. "Yeah, more of that, yeah," she moaned. "Come on, Winston, talk to me."

"Not much to say," he grunted. "You're beautiful." Her chest heaved, a rosy blush spreading across her upper slopes. "You're tight and your ass is tight and your breasts are perfect, God, Janine, I'm not gonna hold out much longer if I keep talking."

"Shhh, then," she whispered. She leaned forward and latched onto the skin just under his ear, her lips working slowly. He growled and buried his face in her shoulder.

Her skin was warm, her body was taut, she writhed on him like a dervish; she was holy, she was a goddess, she was coming and howling and shaking in his arms. He breathed the scent of her, her arousal, the bitter edge of her sorrow from earlier, her perfume. Her skin prickled and softened, and as the last few pulses echoed through her, her mouth found his and kissed him slow and sweet.

He lost control; by the time he realized what he was doing, he was pounding up into her, too far gone to stop. He held her close, held his breath, and let the white fire shoot up his spine. She let out a feline moan and clutched at him as he came.

Ecto's seat was warm against his back. "Mmm." He opened his eyes; when had he closed them? "I'm going to have to race for the shower - Pete's gonna smell you on me. Or on my jeans."

"What's he gonna say?" She leaned into his chest, fingers tracing his collarbone. "If it's not 'hey, I wanted to be first!' then I don't wanna hear it."

"Fair enough." The bunkroom was complicated at the best of times. The complexity had just doubled, at least. But this was worth it. And maybe, just maybe, even a problem this complicated had a solution. Maybe more than one.

Janine laid her head on his chest. Ecto-1 rocked a little as she shifted her weight, and Winston smiled. At least one member of the team was supportive already.


End file.
